


Maybe; At The Altar

by AllToe_ChristSendTho



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Desperation, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Fake Marriage, M/M, Misunderstandings, Paranoia, Past Style, Past creek, Peer Pressure, Ratings might change, Scheming, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 16:56:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10768509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllToe_ChristSendTho/pseuds/AllToe_ChristSendTho
Summary: When Pride is at stake, an international human Sickness called Lying can easily infect the Human body, and Tweek seemed to have caught the disease after a little reunion back in his hometown.Now the only thing that could be his final salvation in curing this cancerous disease is a blind date with a redhead and a trip to the Altar.





	Maybe; At The Altar

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance if this is a little OOC, since I've only recently joined the SP Fandom. First time posting a story on the web and the first chapter is a little boring, but hope you enjoy!
> 
> The chapter is also unbeta.

**April 30, 2017**

 This was the day Tweek finally returns home to Colorado.

 

And it's not like it's anything to be excessively nervous about or anything, right? It's just going home to the little town he grew up in and visiting old friends whom he never bothered contacting since he left for Panhandle State University in Oklahoma.

Such joy. And _way_  too much pressure.

Boxes laid haphazardly around the cracked linoleum floor of his rented 2-roomed flat, occupying any limited floor space there was in the claustrophobic rental unit. Numerous papers were stashed hastily into tattered decolorised files that were strewn about the cramped pathway and articles of clothing miraculously managing to litter themselves into unreachable corners--- notably behind the television and the old shoe racks by the door. 

In the middle of this despicable chaos, a certain spikey-haired blonde paced about and maneuvered distressingly across the monstrous mess, kicking around half-filled boxes and other miniature obstacles that seemed hell-bent in making sure he was stressing out more than usual.

And that was saying alot.

"Yes Mom, I made sure to bring whatever I could and no, I'm _not_ moving back in. I'm pretty contented here and--- gah! Can't you just listen?" The blonde muttered exasperatedly into the phone as a twitching hand raked through unkempt platnium blonde strands, threathening to tear his hair out if he had to explain in excruciating details that he was simply _visiting_. 

He's been packing up for days now, if the boxes and disarray furniture had given any indications. He was already preparing himself for a long stay in his hometown before returning to Oklahoma to start work again once his break ended, and honestly, he kind of dreaded the little visit back to South Park. Just imagine all the people he was going to meet again, interrogating him about what he's been doing for the past 7 years without ever contacting them.

You could already guess what a celebration that would be.

The feminine voice at the other end of the line was comically bright in contrast to the blonde's apparent snapping, as if unfazed by the panic in his voice. "Of course, dear! I'm just so excited for your _visit_. You're finally returning home after so long." There was a brief pause as his mother sniffed. Tweek grimaced as his guts twisted ruefully.

"Your father and I missed you so much." 

The cracking on the last word didn't went unnoticed, and it re-opened a wound he had long since forgotten he initially had. Something sinked into his stomach and wrenched his already anxious heart, the guilt gnawing its way through his system and bile rising in his throat. He tilted his head down, boyish features twisted in shame.

"I missed you too, Mom," Tweek answered softly, momentarily pausing as he sidestepped the mess in the living room and wandered into the kitchen. He scowled as he gazed at the chinaware cluttered sink. How atrocious. "Things in Oklahoma's great, but I missed home." _I missed you guys._

And every word was true. Stepping back from the sink, he pivoted himself towards the dining table where a black photo-album was left abandoned on the wooden table top. Chartreuse eyes scanned the precious item, flipping to a familiar page that was flipped to so frequently, the edges had become worn out from overuse. It didn't take long before he found the slowly yellowing photo that had burned itself into his memory. Familiar icy blues and warm brown eyes stared at him from the photograph, huddling together with a younger version of the frazzled blonde. 

His fingers traced fondly over the plastic-protected photograph, a thumb gently gliding over a blue chullo, a red varsity jacket and richly dark skin that stood out against the bright surrounding. The four of them beamed into the lenses of the camera, and Tweek reminiscence how the giant beside him had an uncharacteristically soft smile that traced his lips that day.

 

_"Dude, why are you staring at me like that?" The blue chullo wearing giant questioned, icy blue eyes scrutinizing the blonde who kept a vice-like grip on his buttoned down hunter green shirt, which was buttoned correctly for once. Thank Clyde for helping him out with that._

_Tweek blinked at the noirette eyeing in his general direction curiously, and the blonde glanced back behind him only to see that there was no one else there. He turned back to face the man, who had a thick eyebrow arched at him expectantly and his gentle smile replaced with a concerned frown. The mechanical wheels of his metaphorical computation seemed to turn and click in his mind._

_"Oh, you were talking to me?" He squeaked, pointing a hesitant finger at himself. Icy blue eyes rolled in response._

_"Who else, dumbass?" The noirette muttered, punching Tweek weakly on the shoulder. The blonde flinched a little but offered the giant a wry smile as he rubbed that sore spot on his right arm. He forgotten how strong Craig was even if he is quite lanky._

_"Has anyone ever told you that you look nicest when you're smiling?"_

_Bright blue eyes widened before an adenoidal laughter escaped the noirette's lips, filling the eardrums of the awestrucked green-eyed youth and hypnotizing him with his deep melody, "No, it's the first time I've heard anyone ever say that to me," he chuckled, the small smile working itself back onto his lips as he gazed at the flustered boy._

_Craig studied as a prominent blush spreaded across Tweek's cheeks, his smile once more fading and the corner of his lips tugging downwards, " Hey Tweek, are you alright? You look kinda sick."_

_"Tweek?_ \--- Tweek, are you there sweetie?"

 

Fingers stilled above the photo before the blonde could muster enough of his conscious to shut the photo-album close and clear his throat, "Yeah, sorry Mom. Got a little... _distracted_ ," he coughed embarrassingly for lack of a better word. Damn it. Really, he's got to stay more focus, like come on---daydreaming while on the _phone_?

A relieved sigh escaped on the other line. Whew, she hadn't notice. He hoped. "Oh, alright. We'll talk again once you get back home sweetie, more customers are coming in, and they are _cranky_." 

The familiar beeping of the phone signalled the line being cut off before the blonde could even bid goodbye.

Tweek released his own lethargic sigh through his nose as he placed his phone down on the dining table with a careless gentleness. He hadn't realised he had plopped down on the seat while calling, and proceeded to lean back on the unstable chair that creaked with his additional weight and rubbed his face with both of his hands. The chair groaned, threathening to break. But it never did. 

He felt as if he was on the verge of letting loose the much needed hysterical screams that clawed at his chest; a constant need that had haunted him throughout his miserable excuse of a life. It was the overwhelming need to get his voice heard and his message sent across, a luxury he didn't have in the past and certainly not now. The throb in his chest was a perpetual, dull ache however; something that he simply got used to after many years of suffering under its relentless clutches.

Maybe he's just overthinking again, he was feeling exhausted after all.

Tweek turned back, his weary eyes sweeping at the disorganization he managed to single-handedly create in a span of an hour. "If this isn't my life," he amused to himself, finally getting up to clear his items and actually start packing instead of tossing his stuff and compiling them into a gigantic heap. It was a good thing that there wasn't much to pack up anyway; he needed to find a new, _permenant_ place to stay as soon as he returns to Oklahoma. Preferably closer to his job at the Urban Bru.

In no time at all, after skillfully---or lack thereof--- of wrestling his clothes into the boxes and flailing his arms around pathetically to get the clothes off the lamps, he finally cleared and stashed everything into their respective boxes. He was actually quite proud of how he miraculously managed to tape them all together without anyones help.

The beeping of the moving truck outside was the only thing that alerted him of its arrival. 

 

 

                      ***********

 

The journey back to South Park was longer than expected, especially when travelling back from Texas County, Oklahoma to Denver, Colorado. Tweek gazed outside of the moving truck in the passenger seat, his arm propped up against the window and watching as the evergreen breezed passed. An old 80s music filled the comfortable silence, and Tweek found himself relaxing even with the presence of a stranger. He was beginning to feel really cold however, despite having the heater on. It had slipped his mind that Colorado was much colder than the warm Oklahoma. 

He hugged the thin green jacket around him even closer to his body, praying that the body warmth that his anatomy was exothermically releasing would stay in the confines of his jacket. He was freezing! Sooner than he wanted however, he finally reached the front doorsteps of his home. The first thing that greeted him was the sight of a bright green neon board with the gigantic words spelling "WELCOME HOME SON!!"

Oh no. Even if Jesus forsaken him--- _Please_  no. 

The house was decorated in fairy lights, and his house looked like it had just came out of a Christmas brochure. Bright lights illuminated every window, leaving no window unlit. By the doorway, his mom and dad stood with the most humongous smile he had ever been given the grace to see. 

"Tweek!" Mrs Tweak squealed in greeting as she bounded down the steps and caged him in a suffocating embrace as soon as he stepped out of the truck. Goosebumps pricked at his skin as the cold wind sent a shiver down his spine, and for once, the blonde was grateful for the bone-crushing hug that provided the much needed warmth. Chartreuse irises watched as Richard Tweak followed suit at a more leisure pace behind his mother, only to pat the hair of the dishevelled blonde as he wrapped the shivering male with a wool blanket.

"Let's get you inside."


End file.
